The Pretty Lies The Ugly Truth Novels & Stories

A combination it didn't know existed but smelled so good. “...you tell me, princess.” “I'm not a princess.” “Of course, you are not. You are a dirty bitch who fights like a man.” “I'd rather be a dirty bitch that fights for what's right than to be a classy bitch that hides from the truth.” “What good is there to fight for the truth when everyone else knows it's a lie.” “A truth that no one knows about is not a lie but a mystery. And when that mystery is solved, the recognition that comes with it is gratifying.”

‘I…Umm…’ I fidget with my fingers nervously, using my long tresses to veil my flustered face. Damn, you! Stop staring at me with those hypnotising eyes. Your beautiful eyes do funny things to me that are not beautiful. They make me think things I should not be thinking. They make me…dream and I don’t want to dream. I cannot afford them. My truth is ugly. It’s unbearable. I need lies. Yes! A fresh lot of lies can be covered up for romantic bullshit.

Done accepting pretty words at face value. This time, I'm going to find the truth for myself, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You're right… Perhaps I should have called... I just thought I could handle it. I almost did. We were preparing an email that would have explained—” “That wouldn't have worked,” I said curtly. “Of course, some would read your little email and agree with the facts, but most would rather stick to the version that triggers their emotions. They would rather believe the lies because it makes their lives less boring. The truth is boring. The decent Josie Clairmont who got her job because she deserved it is boring. The dirty slut who slept with half of the management to become a director is far more exciting.” A dry laugh escaped her. “Do you think I don't know that? But it was the only thing we c

my mother's head drops as she looks at the ground and says "I am sorry my love but he is not lying, I was the one that owed the money to the mafia, I was the one that had your father whore you out to those men, It was me not your father." To Be Continued....

He looked at my father and gave Dave a very hard look, then walked out. “What are you doing here?” “That's not how you speak to your husband, Rhea.” My father's voice was calm. I sat up straighter, ignoring the pain shooting through my ribs. “I don't know what he told you, but it's all lies. Every word…” “I know everything.” He cut me off. “The surrogate. The ex-girlfriend. The donor eggs due to your medical complications. Which part is the lie?” My mouth opened in disbelief. “You…you can't actually think this is okay.”

she asked, eyes wide. I picked up the box, closed my hand around it, and felt the sharp edge of the decision settle in my bones. I could give it to her — hand over the prettiness and let the world be what it was. Or I could keep the ugliness, make her safe by hiding the truth. I slid the box back into the drawer and shut it. “Not everything pretty is for us,” I said in a voice I tried to make ordinary. “We’re going to make our own pretty, okay? Together.”

People we hadn’t heard from in years started calling. Cousins. Friends. Distant relatives. Everyone wanted to know the truth. And then it got worse. A new rumor started to spread. That I was never pregnant. That I was wearing a fake bump. That I was infertile,and had stolen her child because I couldn’t carry my own. I laughed at first. Until I cried. Because that’s what lies do when they take root. They grow into forests that swallow even the loudest truths. I called Granny again.

Don't fuckin tell me you've fallen in love with this man? My stomach twisted. “I...i ..I haven’t. It’s... complicated. He’s dragging his feet on the divorce from Jayla. Election season, headlines—he’s paranoid.” “Paranoid? Or smart?” The voice sharpened, like a knife edge. “You’ve been in that house for months now, belly swelling like a trophy. If you’re not his wife on paper soon, you’re exposed. And if you’re exposed, I expose you. Everything—the lies, the setups, the money trails. Poof. Gone.”

“That’s…” He shook his head slowly. “I wish I’d seen that.” I laughed softly. “It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you’re imagining.” “I doubt that.” I continued anyway. “I walked them through everything.” “The fake infertility report.” “The domestic violence allegation.” “The financial fraud.” “The manipulation.” “The conspiracy.” I swallowed. “And then I ended by telling them…” I looked directly at him. “‘The truth does not become a lie simply because someone famous tells it.’” The room became very quiet.